


I'm Made of Wax, Larry

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Case Fic, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Inception Bingo, Sorry Not Sorry, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-13 00:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15352104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: Ariadne, Arthur, and Eames run a job in a wax museum.Yep.





	I'm Made of Wax, Larry

**Author's Note:**

> I am pretty sure I should be apologizing for this, but I'm not gonna. This is my SEVENTH Inception Bingo 2018 story, for the "wax play" square.
> 
> Inspired, obviously, by [this](https://www.madametussauds.com/london/en/whats-inside/party/tom-hardy/).

“This may actually be the most fucked-up dream I’ve ever been in.” Eames looked around with his nose wrinkled, his eyes somewhere between amusement and panic. “I mean it, Ari. You’ve outdone yourself. This is truly horrible.”

Ariadne laughed. “It is, isn’t it?” She shook her head. “Things I never thought I’d spend my life doing…”

Arthur stepped out from the next room, the look on his face similar to Eames’. “Is this giving anybody else the creeps in a serious way?”

“God, yes.”

They were surrounded by wax dummies. Well, projections of wax dummies. In a stroke of terrible brilliance, Ariadne had talked them into setting the dream in Madame Tussauds, where the mark, a weasely little man called Gills, worked. The museum’s layout was, as could be expected from Ari, perfect. But the wax figures themselves were largely created in the mind of the dreamer--Gills--and were more...eclectic.

“This one seems to be spot-on,” Eames murmured, examining the figure of a popular actor. He was a new kind of dummy for which the museum was getting a ton of press, warm to the touch, with an artificially beating heart. “Just like it is in the real museum.” He shook his head. “And just as creepy down here.”

“These ones are even worse,” Ari said, clearly delighted. The figures she pointed to were shaped generally like the ones in the museum, but their faces were indistinct, as if the wax had started to melt.

“Guess he isn’t as fond of those,” Eames mused.

“Amusing as I’m sure this exploration is,” Arthur broke in, “we should get to work.”

The job was easy enough--someone was stealing the museum’s secrets (because apparently wax museums have secrets?) and selling them to the competition (because apparently wax museums have competition?). To make things worse, secrets from other wax museums were also being stolen, and some had been offered to Madame Tussauds--for a price. The museum’s head of security knew Gills was the thief, but wanted to extract whatever he knew about the other museums before calling the authorities.

The plan was for Ariadne to pose as a museum guest, trailing Gills as he went about what he should feel was a normal work day and providing security or distraction as needed. Arthur would act as extractor, searching for the information Gills had hidden. Eames would move from room to room, posing as wax figures that would trigger Gills’ subconscious to think about his thefts.

“Can you change now, please?” Arthur snapped, drawing Eames’ attention away from where he was still marveling over the warm-skinned wax actor.

“In a minute,” Eames said, still staring. “Do you think people try to have, like, make out sessions with this bloke?” He reached out and ran a finger over the dummy’s thick, pouty wax lips. “It’s lips are warm.”

“Eames, that’s disgusting,” Arthur said. His eyes landed briefly on the figure as he scanned the room. “Also, it looks a little bit like you, don’t you think?”

Eames grinned. “Why Arthur, would you like to see me made of wax? Would you make out with wax-me?”

Arthur groaned. “No. Now change.”

Eames finally did, taking on the appearance of a former Prime Minister known for his secret-keeping and potential treason. Or, rather, the wax model of the former Prime Minister. Arthur tried not to look at him--even though he knew Eames was still in there, and they’d practiced this, it was still unnerving to see him not just in someone else’s skin, but in someone else’s wax skin.

Gills moved through the rooms in a bit of a daze. Ariadne wondered, as she followed him, if he usually did more than this at work. He didn’t examine most of the wax figures closely, but he did notice Eames’ forgery, looking it over with interest. Ariadne asked him a simple question and hung on his every word when he answered, giving Eames time to go into the next room and switch to another forgery--this one a model who had recently leaked an explosive sex tape. They repeated the charade in the next two rooms, Eames portraying a famous figure who had hidden or exposed something big in each case, and Ariadne making sure Gills noted it.

It only took about thirty minutes before Arthur appeared in the corner of one of the galleries, nodding sharply at Ariadne to indicate he’d been successful. Ariadne nodded back, catching Eames’ unblinking eyes across the room, then quietly exiting out another door and making her way to the security room she’d constructed, where Arthur was already waiting.

Arthur and Ariadne watched as Gills moved out of the room in which Eames stood. A moment later, Eames appeared, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He glanced at his watch. “Another twenty minutes down here?” he asked.

Arthur nodded, turning away from the security screens.

“Did you get it?” Eames asked.

“Of course.” Arthur smirked. “It was all hanging in the coat check, if you can believe that. Some people have a weird idea of where to keep things secure.”

Eames chuckled.

“Oh my God,” Ariadne said, turning to look at both the men with wide eyes. “You’ve gotta see this.”

Both Arthur and Eames leaned over her shoulder to look at the monitor she indicated. On it, Gills had approached the warm actor’s mannequin. As all three of them watched, Gills climbed onto its lap, cupping its face in his hands and kissing it passionately.

“See!” Eames crowed. “I told you people would do that!”

Ariadne looked delighted, Arthur vaguely sick. None of them could tear their eyes away as Gills wrapped his arms around the figure’s neck began to grind against it.

“I cannot fucking watch this,” Arthur said, but he didn’t look away.

Ariadne squealed. “Oh! He’s going to…!”

“He certainly is,” Eames said, not even pretending to be disgusted. “That’s...wow.”

On the screen, Gills got more into it, clearly heading toward a climax.

Arthur caught the glint in Eames’ eye before he spoke, and almost shut it down, but couldn’t quite force himself to do it. “Ari,” Eames asked casually, “did you build an intercom into this place?”

“Of course.” Ariadne glanced away from the screen for long enough to frown at Eames. “It’s part of the museum design.” She flicked a finger toward a control panel beside her. “It’s right there.”

“Brilliant,” Eames said, grinning widely. While Ari watched the screen, and Arthur watched Eames, Eames stepped over and flipped the museum-wide intercom on. “Sir,” he intoned, his voice a good impression of the bored museum guards they’d observed during their research for the job. “I am going to have to ask you to stop shagging the mannequin. Sir, I repeat, stop shagging the wax man.”

As all three of them exploded into laughter, Gills fell backward off the wax figure’s lap, his erection obvious when he sprawled onto the museum floor. He looked around wildly, searching for a guard, his eyes then falling on the camera in the corner of the room. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish as he realized he was being watched.

Ariadne laughed so hard she nearly fell on the floor. “Eames,” she wheezed, “that was so mean!”

Eames shrugged. “Not that mean, pet.” He grinned wider. “What would have been really mean was to make that thing come to life and start kissing back.”

After Arthur met with their contact, handed over what they’d found, and got paid, the three of them had dinner. Usually, they’d leave town after a job, but the risk on this one had been so low that wasn’t necessary, even by Arthur’s standards. The mood was light as they ate and drank--it was rare that they were able to pull something off so easily.

“I wonder,” Ari said thoughtfully, “why he did it?”

“Money,” Arthur said. “Same reason they all do.”

“Oh, no, not that. I know why he stole. I meant the other thing.”

“You mean trying to fuck a warm wax mannequin?” Eames asked, trying to make Ariadne blush.

“Yes,” she answered, smirking at him. Who taught her how to smirk? “That.”

Eames shrugged. “Some people use sex dolls, right? Not that much different.” He grinned. “Besides, you have to admit, that was one handsome wax man.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


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